


going for gold

by dagwic



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Kid Mordred (Merlin), Linguistics Olympiad, M/M, but camelot still exists, it's a modern setting, the round table gang just straight-up vibin for 15K words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagwic/pseuds/dagwic
Summary: The 2020 Inter-Kingdom Linguistics Olympiad: bringing together some of the greatest problem solvers from around Albion (and Gwaine is there as well). Merlin just wants to have some once-in-a-lifetime fun before he goes off to uni, then he notices a boy on the Camelot team with a mop of golden hair.(one chapter a day, 19-25 July)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 59





	1. sunday (arrival)

**Author's Note:**

> the International Linguistics Olympiad is an actual competition that's held in july/august every year (you can google it or it has a wikipedia page). the 18th iteration of the IOL was scheduled to take place in ventspils, latvia from 20-24 july but it got cancelled thanks to this goddamn pandemic, so I'm dealing with it the only way I feel prepared to: writing a one-chapter-a-day fic where I insert the merlin characters into one of my favourite cultish communities.
> 
> no high stakes here, no magic, but lots of the round table gang just vibin'. really this fic is more for me than anything else, but hopefully someone else will appreciate finding out more about the world of linguistics olympiads.

This was a big deal.

Merlin knew it was a big deal before, but now it was happening he could _feel_ how big a deal it was. To him at least. Most people in Essetir had no clue what linguistics was, never mind a linguistics olympiad. But as soon as Merlin had seen that tweet about last year's Inter-Kingdom Linguistics Olympiad, he knew he would do anything to go there himself.

And now the moment was here. He was a contestant on the Essetir team, sitting on the train to New Camelot with Will, Freya and Mordred all around a table. Their team leader, Gaius, was sat close by with headphones over his silver wispy hair, settling down into a nap.

He'd met them all before at the second round of the kingdom-internal competition — Will had been his roommate and they'd spent each night of the weekend staying up way past midnight and chatting about almost every aspect of their lives, most of which was taken up with Will talking about his abundance of ex-girlfriends.

The majority of the train ride held itself in a nervous hush. They had been preparing for this competition for months now, doing past papers and reading up about number systems in Papua New Guinea, and sitting through video calls where they tried (and failed) to make any progress on any of the notoriously impossible team problems.

Freya, who Merlin had barely spoken to at the second round, was nervously biting at the skin around her nails. When Merlin had first seen that she was on the team, he was surprised — she had barely contributed to the group discussions, but that might have been partly due to the large gender imbalance — but, getting to know her during training, she was always several steps ahead of the rest of them in her thinking. He just hoped that she would be more forthright with her deductions in the real event.

Mordred was the youngest of the group and the only one who had any years left of school. If he was being honest, Merlin found the boy uncomfortable to be around. At the second round, he was so much younger than everyone else that his mother had come to accompany him. And because of his age, he had been so eager to prove that he deserved to be there that he would unflinchingly contribute to any and all discussions, often with a complete guess. In many ways, he was the opposite of Freya: where she was usually quietly correct, Mordred was loudly wrong.

But even he was silent now, the gravity of the situation having dawned on them all about an hour into the journey. Merlin wondered if this was his first trip out of the kingdom without his family — he looked queasy enough that it could be.

They were fast approaching the citadel now, not that you could tell from their team leader's nonchalant snoring. He had been the team leader for every Essetir team, ever since they started competing 10 years ago, and was clearly habituated to the contest in a way that this team of newcomers never could be. When the train screeched to a halt at its terminus, he blearily swiped his headphones off of his head and followed behind the team as they stepped down to the platform with jumpy anticipation.

Merlin thought he could feel his nerves festering under his skin, humming a soft purr.

Once past the ticket barriers, they eventually found the group of student representatives from the University of Camelot standing by WHSmith with a meagre A4 sign reading "IOL 2020" in an uninspired font. There was already another team waiting with their bags and Gaius greeted their team leader with a small hug, as though they had known each other for a long time but didn't care much for each other's company.

The team was from Northumbria, he said. Merlin could see that they looked just as nervous as the Essetir team, if not more so, but also bored from having to wait. As a result, they stood scrolling through social media, unsure of what to say. An awkward silence hung over the group far longer than Merlin would normally have been able to put up with.

While a couple of people, mostly Will, tried to start conversations, they would dissipate almost immediately. Merlin thought it didn't bode well for the week that it started with such an tense atmosphere — how was he supposed to make new friends if no-one could even communicate. Really it was rather ironic for contestants at a linguistics olympiad to be so bad at talking.

Eventually, one of the representatives got a text saying that their coach had arrived to take them to the university and both teams let out a sigh of relief.

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a similar fashion. On the coach, the Northumbria team talked quietly amongst themselves, while Will desperately tried asking Merlin if he thought any of the girls on the other team were attractive. The rest of the Essetir team shifted in their seats for a variety of reasons — Mordred because he was young and everyone else on the team was 18, Freya because she found Will's obsession with the female gender concerning/offensive (she hadn't made up her mind on that one yet), and Merlin because he hated when men and boys assumed this was a safe topic of conversation, as if no-one in the world was gay.

And Merlin was gay, not that he'd had the heart to tell Will that during those late night heart-to-hearts. He was out with his friends back home and with his mum, but sometimes he couldn't help but find the process of coming out to every new person he met kind of exhausting. Attitudes were almost universally positive in his experience, but it was such a hassle most of the time that he tried to avoid having that conversation wherever he could. Instead he would politely nod at whatever Will would say or he would mutter something innocuous like _I like her dress_ or _she's got a cool backpack_.

He was actually trying to look out of the window at the city of New Camelot. It was his first time seeing the city in person rather than pictures he'd googled as soon as the venue had been announced — but driving through the streets, he could really sense the age and grandiosity of the worn stone buildings that blurred past him. He'd always found the name of the city a bit ridiculous — it was hardly a "new" city, but it had been the first purpose-built capital city in Albion when it was constructed back in the 15th century, and Camelot had always been obsessed with tradition, so it kept the lineage of having its centre of government in "Camelot".

As the coach wound through the narrow streets, Merlin wondered if he should have applied to the University of Camelot instead of his native one. After all, Ealdor was close enough to the border and he appreciated the sturdy historic architecture of New Camelot better than the metal and glass monstrosities being thrown up at an alarming rate around the heart of Engerd.

As the buildings began to thin out, they approached the main campus of the university. He had noticed that nothing had been scheduled for Sunday at all — technically the competition only started on Monday once the teams had registered and the opening ceremony had happened — so he wondered what they were expected to do for the rest of the evening.

Their encounter with the IOL volunteers didn't exactly help them with the answer to that question. Rather, they were all given lanyards with their names on and signed in to their rooms for the week without any further information. Will had been assigned a roommate from the Isle of Man who hadn't arrived yet, while Merlin had been lumped with Mordred. So much for having fun late into the night. Gaius seemed to disappear as soon as he got his hands on his own room key and left all the Essetir contestants to their own devices, as though he had fulfilled his requirement for looking after his team.

And so Merlin and Mordred sat in their room in silence for an hour until they could go get dinner.

The cafeteria was remarkably difficult to find. Their lanyards had a map on the reverse, but there were few landmarks to help them distinguish one old stone building from another. Eventually, they bumped into a group who looked equally lost. One of them, a boy with longish dark hair in a mop to the side turned to Merlin with a huge grin, stretched out a hand and introduced himself as Gwaine.

 **Gwaine** : ...and this is the Caerleon team. That's Morgause and Eoghan over there. Gareth's not arrived yet, but we can manage perfectly fine without him. He wasn't the brightest spark in training, but don't tell him I said so. Do any of you fine folks happen to know where the cafeteria is? I'm starving.

Morgause and Eoghan, clearly of a more reserved nature, simply smiled as if to apologise for Gwaine on behalf of the entire kingdom of Caerleon.

 **Merlin** : Absolutely no clue. These maps are completely useless when you have no idea where you are in the first place.

 **Gwaine** : Oh my god, there's a map on the back of this?! Holy shit, we're a bunch of idiots. I mean you'd expect that from me, but Morgause, you didn't notice? Caerleon clearly doesn't have a particularly rigorous national competition if we're the best the kingdom has to offer. You're a star, blue-eyes.

He then proceeded to wink directly at Merlin, which caught him off-guard. After several hours of near silence, the unending drone of Gwaine's voice was a shock to the system, never mind the fact that he was unashamedly flirting with someone he hadn't paused long enough to get the name of.

And now that Merlin came to think about it, Gwaine was kind of hot. Not only did he have the face of a potential model, but there was something about the confidence with which he could command attention that appealed to Merlin's more introverted tendencies. Or maybe he was just sick of everyone being quiet.

 **Merlin** : M— My name's Merlin. From Essetir.

 **Gwaine** : Well, it's sure nice to meet you, Merlin. Now where have you gotten with this map? You look like a smart bunch of people, I'm sure we can figure this one out. Else we'll have no chance on Tuesday. Though in my case, I don't stand much of a chance to begin with.

After much to-ing and fro-ing about which direction the map was facing and which building they were standing next to, Freya eventually pointed out a sign a few hundred metres away reading "← CANTEEN" around a corner that they had all managed to miss. Merlin quietly thanked her while Gwaine rushed ahead, as if his life depended on getting his dinner before the others. He beckoned Merlin to follow in his stead as Will started trying to talk to Morgause, much to her dissatisfaction.

At dinner, the two teams sat next to one another, with Gwaine insisted on sitting opposite Merlin and talking about absolutely nothing for the whole meal, managing to be completely charming and hilarious and flirty while doing it. Halfway through the meal, Gaius appeared and sat down opposite Annis, the Caerleon team leader, and chatted all about which teams had arrived and were going to arrive later.

As Gwaine talked on and on about how he'd been taking Japanese lessons at school, Merlin saw two teams arriving, with four contestants wearing red sweatshirts and the other four wearing a dark yellow. In particular, his eyes were drawn to one of them — the most gorgeous boy he'd ever seen, with blond hair in an admittedly awful haircut that reminded him an awful lot of the cabbages he saw at his local grocers in Ealdor. He looked older than any of the other contestants he'd seen, even Gwaine, and he had the confidence of someone who knew what to expect from this kind of event. As he sat down to eat with his back to the Essetir team, Merlin could see that his sweatshirt read "CAMELOT RED — /ɑːθə/".

Gwaine didn't seem to notice that his attention was elsewhere (or didn't care) and kept rabbiting on about whatever he was talking about now (something about apples). But throughout the rest of the meal, Merlin would glance over at the table where the Camelot teams were sat separate from everyone else and think about what the boy called Arthur might be talking about, or if he'd be a good conversationalist, or if they had any interests in common.

Once dinner had finished, they once again were free to do whatever they wanted for the rest of the evening. Gwaine added Merlin on Facebook immediately and they agreed to meet back in the courtyard next to the dormitories. By the time Merlin had returned from making a quick phone call to his mum, Gwaine had made two new friends from the Mercian team: a boy with brown hair and eyes and olive skin called Lance and an absolute giant in a tank top called Percy.

The courtyard was hexagonal and fairly plain; there was an elaborate fountain in the centre and the edges were lined by short garden beds and uncomfortable looking stone benches, one of which Gwaine gravitated towards and flung himself down onto with the fervour of a homosexual from an Oscar Wilde story. Lance joined him on the bench (more sensibly), while Merlin and Percy sat on the edge of the fountain.

 **Lance** : So is this your first IOL?

 **Gwaine** : First and last, baby. I don't think Caerleon even sent a team last year. Oh wait, no, I remember. They just didn't win anything, that's right.

 **Percy** : Not even an honourable mention?

 **Gwaine** : Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

 **Lance** : And what about you, Merlin?

 **Merlin** : It's my first time too, yeah. I don't really know what to expect.

 **Lance** : Oh, have you had the awkward silences yet? The awkward silences are the best bit of the first day. You couldn't have an IOL without them, really. Get this many nerds together all in one place, it would be wrong if they _could_ all speak to each other.

That took a tiny weight off of Merlin's shoulders. He'd built this experience up so high in his head that when he arrived and it wasn't immediately amazing, he was worried he was doing something wrong. To hear that not only was the awkwardness normal but it was even a part of the experience was, to an extent, reassuring.

 **Merlin** : So you've been before?

 **Lance** : This is my third. Engerd 2018 was my first, then Tintagel 2019 was Percy's first. I've got to say the accommodation here is much nicer than in Engerd, you're pretty lucky with your timing. The food's universally terrible though.

 **Gwaine** : _I_ thought the food was nice.

 **Merlin** : To be fair, Gwaine, you looked hungry enough to eat just about anything.

 **Gwaine** : Actually, Merlin. I don't think that's fair. I'd also eat anything even when I'm _not_ hungry.

They spent the next ten minutes discussing the intricacies of what exactly Gwaine _would_ eat. (From what they could gather, the limit might as well not have existed.) Eventually, even Gwaine ran out of things to say that were even remotely relevant to the conversation, so the four of them sat quietly, with a quiet chuckle. Lance wasn't exactly wrong about the silence, then.

 **Lance** : Don't worry about it. The first day is always the most awkward. Once the opening ceremony's happened, everyone's suddenly got tons to talk about. The rest of the week's like a whirlwind and before you know it you're on the train home.

 **Merlin** : What even happens in the opening ceremony? Is it like the Olympics with flags and everything?

 **Lance** : Kinda. There's a lot of speeches.

Gwaine groaned, presumably at the thought of having to pay attention to something for longer than 5 minutes.

 **Lance** : Different people give them each year, but we'll definitely get one from Ivan. He's one of the important members of the jury and he gives a presentation about the individual contest that has the same corny jokes in it every year. It's a rite of passage at this point.

 **Percy** : I don't really remember it from last year. I was just so excited.

And so they spent the rest of the evening sitting and chatting around that bench, with Lance telling Merlin and Gwaine all about escapades from his previous IOLs, with occasional input from Percy when he knew something about the story, and Merlin's anticipation for the week ahead growing and growing.

He could tell it was going to be a big deal.


	2. monday (opening ceremony)

Merlin slept well. Amazingly well, considering the circumstances, which were that he went to sleep at 1 and woke up at 7 to the sound of Mordred's alarm. And that he felt as though his skin was on fire every time he remembered that he was just a day away from sitting one of the most important exams of his life.

He ate breakfast with the Mercians — none of the others on the Essetir team had made an effort to socialise yet, having all opted for time alone in their rooms — so he politely introduced them all to Lance and Percy. The Caerleon team arrived just as breakfast was closing, with Gwaine desperately asking the servers to give him a larger portion to no avail. Merlin saw no sign of the Camelot team, nor the golden bird's nest on top of Arthur's head. He tried to not be disappointed.

Registration was a less-than-straightforward affair, mostly because there was no sign of Gaius. Eventually, they figured out that they needed to join a queue with the other contestants to sign off their name. They all received a T-shirt and a tote bag with some pens and a notebook from the gift shop of the Museum of Camelot then hurried out of the crowded room to await further instruction.

At lunch, the four of them sat alone.

 **Will** : What's with the gender imbalance? I hardly saw any girls.

 **Merlin** : Did you not see the Gawant team?

 **Will** : One team of girls doesn't make up for the fact that all the others are completely sausage fests. What am I supposed to do here?

Merlin couldn't help but notice how Freya had tensed up when Will started talking. From what he'd seen, the two of them had barely interacted before training, and that was hardly the time for him to talk about his love life. Then again, neither was now.

 **Freya** : I don't know, maybe a linguistics olympiad.

 **Merlin** : Yeah, Will. Get your priorities in check.

Will scoffed, but Freya at least gave him the smallest semblance of a smile. He desperately wanted to just hand her a note saying " _Don't worry, I'm a total homosexual, I'm on your side_ ", but he figured that would come off strange. And he didn't quite know her well enough to know she wouldn't be intolerant.

 **Will** : As if we're gonna win anything anyway. Might as well try to have fun before university, right Merlin?

He nudged Merlin's shoulder with a wink.

 **Merlin** : Leave me out of this, I'm gonna try to find a shop to buy some snacks. I don't think I'll be able to manage if breakfast is always this continental.

To his surprise, Freya and Mordred decided to tag along, while Will stormed off to his bedroom in a huff.

* * *

Satisfied with the assortment of biscuits, fruits and cakes they bought at a nearby corner shop, Merlin, Freya and Mordred started to head back towards the auditorium, where the opening ceremony would soon be starting. This time, Merlin asked Freya to lead the way — with a quick look at the map on her lanyard, they were there without any problems. He cringed inwardly at the thought that she was probably fully aware of the route to the cafeteria last night, but sat silently through his and Will's constant misdirection. At least they met Gwaine.

The auditorium was one of the few newer buildings at the university, but it had been built to match the surrounding buildings, most of which dated to the 17th century or earlier. As a result, it was a beautiful amalgam of worn stone walls with slanted glass skylights to let in the natural summer light. The auditorium itself seemed to be partially underground — the entrances were just above ground level but the rows of seats swept far below. It was difficult to reconcile the harsh, sharp-edged exterior with the plush maroon and gold interior, which exuded a soothing warmth, even in the summer heat.

After finding Gaius and Will and waiting in the foyer with the other teams for a while, they eventually filed into the auditorium and sat a few rows back from the front. Merlin could feel his pulse in his ears and the hum in his fingers as the lights over the audience dimmed.

A man with greying red hair and a piercing scowl stood at the lectern and introduced himself as Drago Kilgharrah, team leader of Camelot and local organiser.

 **Drago** : Hello and welcome to the 18th Inter-Kingdom Linguistics Olympiad! The University of Camelot has gracefully allowed us use of their New Camelot campus for the duration of the week. This university has been part of the IOL family since its inception, with its linguistics and literature faculty hosting the very first linguistics olympiad for Camelot's students all the way back in 1965. I'm pleased to see so many familiar faces in the audience and even more excited to see some unfamiliar faces. To those who are joining us for the first time, I want to whole-heartedly welcome you to our family.

As he spoke, Merlin realised that what had seemed like a scowl was in fact just a result of the sharp shape of his eyebrows. He could see that under his draconian exterior, Drago was in fact deeply moved by this whole event. Towards the end of his speech, Merlin thought the man might even be tearing up.

He then proceeded to announce the presence of each kingdom in turn, as Merlin expected. But unexpectedly, he did not call out the kingdoms by name. Instead, the whole affair became something like a quiz: he would give some facts about the kingdom from difficult to easy, and the team were to stand up in their seats as a form of introduction when they recognised their own kingdom being announced.

First up was Gawant, whose team was notably comprised of 4 girls. (Merlin chose to ignore the side-elbow he was receiving from Will.) Then Northumbria, Caerleon and Nemeth. When the Lance, Percy and the rest of the Mercian team stood up, Merlin found himself whooping louder in applause. Next was Camelot, sitting directly in front of him, the only kingdom to send two teams each year. He could see that they were all still wearing their team colours — red and gold — but this time on T-shirts. He marvelled at how Arthur managed to fill out his shirt so well. He wouldn't have expected an olympiad to have so many lookers in one place, but he was hardly complaining.

When Drago gave a statistic about the haven of supposed sorcerers from Camelot in a particular kingdom's citadel, all four of the Essetir team stood up without the need to communicate with one another. King Cenred's mythical protection of the persecuted was still a common legend among the people of Essetir and helped solidify a sense of unity and patriotism within a kingdom that had always been in the shadow of its larger and more prosperous neighbour.

As the Camelot team turned around to look at them and welcome them, Merlin caught Arthur's eyes for the first time. His heart clenched slightly as he saw their pale blue looking directly into his soul for an extended moment, before he turned back around to face the front.

The final kingdoms to be announced were Cornwall, the Isle of Man (not technically a kingdom, but they met all other requirements for participation), Strathclyde, Kent and — for the first time — Essex.

The rest of the opening ceremony featured an incredibly dull speech by the representative from the university, who was clearly using this as an opportunity to try to recruit as many of the younger contestants as possible, then a perplexing speech from the representative of the olympiad jury, Ivan. Merlin remembered what Lance said about the jokes, but didn't quite realise how much of a spectacle this was. It was somewhere between a seminar and a stand-up routine.

 **Ivan** : ... For the individual contest, you are allowed to bring in quiet snacks and time-keeping devices like watches. You are not allowed to bring in any method of contacting the outside world, such as smart watches, mobile phones, laptops or...

Merlin could see Arthur grinning at the upcoming joke even before he flips to the next slide.

 **Ivan** : ...crystal balls. If any of you have indeed reignited the powers of the old religion, then I beg that you do not do so during the individual contest.

After Ivan finished his incredibly thorough shakedown of the rules and regulations for the upcoming exam, there only remained one segment left. To his surprise, Merlin saw both Camelot teams begin to make their way to the front of the auditorium.

 **Drago** : And finally... As a form of cultural immersion, this year's Camelot teams will perform a traditional Camelotian sword dance. Take it away!

He gawped as an accordion-rich melody began blasting through the speakers and the teams stood facing one another with (hopefully blunted) swords in their hands. In time to the music, they began an intricately choreographed and rhythmic swordfight. At first, Arthur's face was as deep a shade as his shirt and moved awkwardly, but as the dance continued, Merlin noticed that his shoulders relaxed and his movements softened. He parried with each of the gold teammates, including a girl with the most amazing hair Merlin had ever seen called Guinevere, who was equally enthralled in the dance.

Merlin had never understood this particular Camelot tradition when he had read about it, but watching it in person, he couldn't help but _get it_. He saw how the kingdom had evolved to appreciate and celebrate both its blood-soaked history and its newfound love of beauty and the fine arts, and synthesise them.

And Arthur had never looked more in his element than he did dancing across the stage, sword in hand.

* * *

The ceremony finished soon after. Gwaine ditched the Caerleon team to join them for dinner, which everyone agreed was actually tasty for once, or maybe they were just in high spirits. Freya even contributed to their conversation this time, with a soft smile on her lips. Merlin felt a great sense of peace around her, and he wondered if they would have been a good match in another life.

After dinner, he and Gwaine arranged to meet Lance and Percy at the same bench as last night, while the rest of the Essetir team went to have an early night before the big day. As they waited, they saw the Camelot teams approach.

 **Merlin** : Nice job with the sword dance. It was amazing.

 **Arthur** : Oh, uh, thanks. We've been training for weeks.

 **Gwen** : Arthur was so nervous about it, weren't you? I'm Gwen.

She held out her hand and Merlin pressed it to his lips. It felt like a strange thing to do — no-one would do the same in Essetir, that's for sure — but he'd been brushing up on Camelot etiquette and couldn't pass up the opportunity to show it off. She blushed slightly.

 **Merlin** : I know. Nice to meet you, Gwen. And the rest of you.

 **Gwen** : What do you mean you know?

 **Merlin** : Your name. It's on your back.

 **Gwen** : So it is. I'm afraid yours isn't, though.

 **Merlin** : Oh right. I'm Merlin. From Essetir.

 **Gwaine** : And I'm Gwaine from Caerleon.

He also took Gwen's hand with a kiss, but Merlin doubted he actually knew anything about Camelotian tradition.

 **Gwen** : Nice to meet y—

She was interrupted by their team leader, whose gaze the rest of the team were nervously avoiding.

 **Uther** : Guinevere, don't you think this can wait until the individual contest is over?

 **Gwen** : Of course, Mr Pendragon. Sorry, Merlin.

Merlin tried to share a sympathetic look with her, but she just hurried into the dormitories with the rest of the team without a glance back.

The four of them — Merlin, Gwaine, Lance and Percy — sat in the same configuration as the first night and discussed the events of the day, with Lance interjecting with stories about what had happened in previous years.

 **Merlin** : And what's the deal with the Camelot team leader?

 **Lance** : Oh, Uther Pendragon? He's a bit of a monster, a control freak. His job is to make sure the Camelot team always gets the most medals. It's part of how they can afford to send two teams, but he works them to the bone. And no socialising allowed at all.

 **Merlin** : Not even after the individual contest?

 **Percy** : I didn't even realise they were competing last year until they won all the gold medals. And most of the silvers.

 **Lance** : Even on the last day, they had to rest up so they could do an entire press tour when they got back home.

 **Gwaine** : Well this guy sounds like a right tosser.

 **Percy** : Agreed.

Then Merlin heard a voice over his shoulder from someone he hadn't spoken to before.

 **Morgana** : Agreed.

When he turned around he recognised her as another member of the Camelot red team. She had long black hair and milk-white skin unlike Merlin had ever seen. She had an ethereal beauty to her, with the facade of fragility like a china teacup. Stood next to her was Gwen, who had changed out of her red team T-shirt into jeans and a more casual top.

 **Gwaine** : Nice of you to join us...

 **Morgana** : Morgana. And you two are?

 **Gwaine** : This is Lance and Percy, from Mercia.

 **Lance** : Lovely to meet you both.

Merlin thought he saw Gwen blush somewhat as Lance kissed her hand. Really if he'd known this would become such a _thing_ , he never would have done it in the first place.

 **Morgana** : Well it is my pleasure to make all of your acquaintances. I'm not keen on being locked away in a cage for the night, even if it is just so that Gwen can have her hand molested by strange men.

 **Gwen** : Morgana! I really don't mind, it is the traditional greeting in Camelot after all.

 **Morgana** : In the eighteenth century, Gwen. It upholds archaic patriarchal norms, and I for one have no intention of letting men control just about anything in my life.

Lance looked like he might pass out.

 **Lance** : I apologise sincerely for my indiscretion, Morgana.

Morgana looked down at him and chuckled. She held out her hand to him.

 **Morgana** : I was joking, Lance. Though you do really sound like you came from the eighteenth century.

And so the fabulous four spent their second evening in Camelot in the company of Gwen and Morgana, until midnight, when Drago returned, swaying, to the dormitory with Gaius and strongly suggested to the girls that they get some rest.


	3. tuesday (individual contest)

Dawn, with her rosy fingers and soft dew, waited patiently. She bloomed some flowers in the stone beds as she lay idly outside the dormitory for her subjects to awaken. When they still did not wake, she beguiled her time painting the sunrise in her favourite shades of red and gold, and carefully suspending a brief crispness in the morning air to ward off their inevitable grogginess.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Merlin had not slept enough. The moment Mordred's goddamn alarm went off, he wanted nothing more than to sink back into his sheets and drift off again. He was having a nice dream, he thought, but his memory of it left a lot to be desired. Then he remembered it was Tuesday, and a volt passed through his veins, shocking him awake. The day of the individual contest.

Breakfast was a quiet and tense affair. Not awkward like at first, but Merlin could feel a looming anxiety over the cafeteria. He sat with the Essetir team and Gaius and they barely spoke. Freya, already pale in complexion, looked ready to keel over. They barely ate.

As they stood outside the auditorium, he felt the same numbness purring under his skin — but it was cool, rather than warm. It started in his fingers, then he felt it in his cheeks, then in his feet. He walked over to check his seat number for the fourth time.

The individual contest was to last six hours, from 9am to 3pm. Seated at his desk, he placed his bag of snacks on the empty chair next to him along with the sandwich they had provided for lunch. The girl sitting diagonally in front of him took out her bounty of pens and markers, in all different shades, and Merlin suddenly realised he had left his pencil case in his bedroom. Thrust back into the moment, he looked around himself in the desperate hope he would figure something out.

Thankfully, he saw the dark ruffles of Lance's hair sitting three rows in front of him. He gingerly stepped down towards him.

 **Merlin** : Hey, Lance. I'm really sorry. I left my pencil case behind, do you have just a pen I can use? I only need one.

 **Lance** : Black or blue?

 **Merlin** : Black's fine — thanks so much, you're a lifesaver.

 **Lance** : It's my absolute pleasure. Good luck.

 **Merlin** : You too.

He sat back in his chair in relief, clutching the biro like it was a buoy out at sea. When he looked down at the envelope in front of him, he saw that someone had also left a yellow highlighter on his desk. He looked it over, still somewhat dazed with adrenaline, before looking around to see the blank stares of his fellow contestants, including a defiantly-faced Arthur (whose hair was even messier than usual).

 **Ivan** : The time is now 09:05, the contest will end at 15:05. You may begin. Good luck!

Six hours sounds like a long time, but Merlin had never felt more rushed in his life. After a morning of muddy thoughts, then a brief whirl of incoherent adrenaline-addled ones, he was relieved to find that his mind was able to focus intently on the problems they had been given to solve.

There were five problems, each on data from a different language or linguistic system, but all of the greatest difficulty. At their fastest, they could take 40 minutes. At their slowest, you might never finish a single one in the entire six hours. He had allotted an hour to each problem, with the sixth hour dedicated to finishing the problems that took any longer.

However, Merlin couldn't help but regret that decision when, an hour in, he realised that he had made no progress on the first problem and had to move on.

He wrote and scribbled and thought and panicked and highlighted and underlined non-stop, only pausing to take a gulp of water or shove a chocolate biscuit into his mouth. As the hours came and went, he forgot about the outside world, intent only on deciphering whatever grammatical trick had been woven into each problem one by one.

The second problem, thankfully, he managed to solve in 50 minutes, buying him precious extra time. The third problem, he was fairly happy with his solution an hour in, so he wrote it up as fast as he could, trying not to eat into the time he had already earned. He had finished the fourth and fifth problems by 13:30 — not fully, but enough for his own satisfaction.

He made no further progress on the first problem when the time was called. He had spent over three hours on it — only to hand in a completely ridiculous set of guesses as a pathetic excuse for a solution.

It was so different from his training. In that room, he could tune everything out without trying, as if he had cast a spell of silence over everyone. But he didn't have the liberty of peeking at the official solution for a little hint, or to perform a quick google search to see if he could find anything else out. Nor did he have the liberty of leaving a problem alone and sleeping on it.

Merlin was exhausted. And starving.

* * *

**Merlin** : So how did you find it?

 **Will** : That was traumatic. Genuinely. I think I got something for 3 and 4.

 **Mordred** : I quite enjoyed it actually. 3 and 4 were my favourites, but I think I got at least some of 2 and 5.

 **Gaius** : What about the first one?

 **Mordred** : I skipped it. Looked impossible.

 **Gaius** : Merlin?

 **Merlin** : I spent over half my time on it and still didn't get anywhere. You made the right call, Mordred.

 **Gaius** : Oh that's a shame. What about you, Freya?

 **Freya** : It was tricky, I guess. But the notes at the end kind of gave it away, don't you think? Why else would they mention the shape of the house if it wasn't relevant?

 **Will** : Don't tell me you did all the others too?

 **Freya** : I... Well, I submitted something for them all.

 **Mordred** : Freya, that's amazing! You're sure to get a medal then.

 **Gaius** : The boy's right, you know. I'd say you're guaranteed a silver if you solved them all.

 **Freya** : Oh I doubt it. My explanations were so messy, they'll probably give it zero just for my handwriting.

As Merlin caught up with his friends, he started to feel much better about not solving the first problem. It was almost universally acknowledged to be the hardest one, and not even Lance said he'd solved it fully. And Lance already had two bronze medals under his belt.

 **Percy** : Were you asleep, Gwaine?

 **Gwaine** : Guilty as charged.

 **Lance** : I'm disappointed in you. Do you know how many people Morgana had to kill to get on the Camelot team? And you're just sleeping through the main part.

 **Merlin** : You say that like it's a joke. She does give killer vibes. Or maybe that's just because she's always wearing black.

 **Gwaine** : Lance. Merls. The main part is _this_. I had a go at the first problem and I didn't get anywhere so I gave up.

 **Percy** : Well that's just unfortunate. Even I could tell the first was the hardest. Not that I got any of the others, mind.

 **Gwaine** : I suppose the gods decided the two of us would be too powerful if we were this handsome _and_ smart.

 **Merlin** : Keep telling yourself that.

Merlin then spotted Gwen, Morgana and Arthur chatting just ahead, so he excused himself and made his way over.

 **Gwen** : ... just can't believe it. Oh, hello Merlin!

 **Merlin** : Hi Gwen, Morgana.

 **Morgana** : Merlin, have you met my sorry excuse for a brother, Arthur?

 **Arthur** : You're the one who kissed Gwen's hand, aren't you?

 **Merlin** : For the last time, the book I read said it was part of Camelotian etiquette! I didn't know.

 **Gwen** : No, it's alright, Merlin. Don't worry. How did you find the paper?

Merlin felt a gentle heat seizing his neck, so he reached his arm around to soothe it.

 **Merlin** : Uh... it was pretty good, I guess. I didn't get anything for problem 1, though.

 **Morgana** : You and me both. Guinevere was just telling us how she solved it.

She then leaned in to Merlin's ear and whispered loudly.

 **Morgana** : She even put it as the easiest problem on the questionnaire at the end.

 **Merlin** : The easiest?!

 **Gwen** : Oh, stop it, Morgana. It took me the least amount of time, but I'm sure that was just a fluke! Maybe I got it wrong anyway.

 **Arthur** : No need to be modest, Guinevere. I always said you should have been on the Red team instead of _Morgana_.

It was at this moment that Uther Pendragon decided to intervene.

 **Uther** : If you've had quite enough of questioning my judgement, the rest of the team are doing a debrief and quick photoshoot out in the courtyard.

He turned on his heel and marched out of the auditorium foyer, as if swirling an invisible cape behind him. Arthur, Gwen and Morgana made to follow him.

 **Merlin** : God, can't he ever let you guys have a moment to yourselves? I knew Uther was controlling, but the contest's over now. He doesn't need to be such a prat.

Arthur stood still, as Gwen's face fell. She grabbed his arm, but he shook her off aggressively. He walked back towards Merlin with an unreadable expression on his face.

 **Arthur** : He is my _father_. I won't have you speak about him this way. Who do you think you are?

 **Gwen** : Arthur, just let it go. He didn't mean it. And Uther won't want us to be any later than we already are.

He stared at Merlin's face for a second, before turning around in a huff and storming out — Merlin was starting to see the resemblance.

 **Morgana** : Don't worry about it, Merlin. You weren't to know.

* * *

In the evening, they play a card game called Kent (without any members of the Kent team). Morgana found a common room in the dorm building with a table and some chairs, and they all agreed it would be much more comfortable that sitting on that stone bench again.

They split off into pairs: Merlin with Morgana, Gwaine with Percy and Gwen with Lance. Merlin had never heard of the game before but the rules were fairly simple — a pair would win a point if one of them had four of the same card in their hand and the other shouted "Kent", or they could win a point by noticing that someone else had four of the same card and shouting "Cut". They all agreed together that signals could not be discussed in private.

The first few rounds, Merlin was terrible. He was so focused on getting the four cards for himself that he was entirely oblivious to every possible signal that Morgana was throwing at him.

 **Percy** : Cut! Morgana.

 **Morgana** : Would it kill you to pay attention to me, Merlin? It's kind of the point of the game.

 **Merlin** : Sorry! It all just goes so fast and I can't pay attention to everything. I've had a tough day, you know.

It quickly became clear that Lance and Gwen were a completely overpowered duo. Firstly thanks to their uncanny ability to know the exact moment when the other had all four cards, then secondly because they had clearly come up with some insanely subtle signal that no-one could see. Not even when the entire group spent a whole round focused entirely on the two of them.

Then things started to get really embarrassing. Just as Merlin and Morgana managed to agree on some kind of signal system involving the position of their hands on the table, they started to notice that Lance was yelling "Cut" before they'd even started signalling.

 **Morgana** : Oh for god's sake, Lance. How the fuck did you know that time?!

 **Lance** : I'm counting which cards you're picking up. That was the third queen you'd picked from the table, and I figured you probably had one to start with.

 **Gwaine** : Fucking hell. This is why I don't play cards with nerds.

 **Merlin** : Just play the game, Gwaine.

Things just got increasingly worse. They stopped keeping score after Gwen and Lance got ten points in a row — cutting everyone else and kenting with each other (with the one inevitable "Cunt!" that left a blush on Lance's cheek for a solid ten minutes).

 **Morgana** : How can you even count everyone's cards? There's six of us!

 **Lance** : Well I don't need to count my own. I'm barely even playing. I just look at what cards people are picking up and feed the rest of them to you so I know exactly when you get Kent. I do the same for Gwen, as well. It's how she's gotten three in a row.

 **Gwen** : It's really quite selfless really.

 **Morgana** : I can't believe this. Tomorrow, you two aren't allowed to be on the same team. You don't need any more excuses to be making googly eyes at one another like teenagers in a Netflix original series.

 **Gwaine** : Who says me and Percy aren't making googly eyes at each other?

 **Percy** : I do.

 **Gwaine** : You wound me, Percival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gwen and lance being gods at team games absolutely makes sense with my fantasy


	4. wednesday (excursion)

When Merlin woke up on Wednesday morning, his first thought was that he wanted to apologise to Arthur.

He knew it wasn't worth it. Arthur was just another gorgeous straight boy he would never have a chance with, and if he was anything like his father, Merlin wasn't even sure he wanted to get with him anyway. He was probably a bigot or something, Morgana had certainly made it clear that Uther was.

It didn't matter that Arthur's eyes were the only thing Merlin could think of as he drifted off to sleep and that his dreams for the past couple nights had consisted only of seeing that jawline up close. He was resigned to his destiny, which was that Arthur Pendragon was unattainable and Merlin would do better to ignore him and enjoy the rest of the week with his new friends. And if he wanted a summer fling, he could do much worse than Gwaine.

But despite Merlin's knowledge of all of these facts, he still wanted nothing more than to apologise. He needed to, for his own peace of mind.

He was still thinking about it on the coach to the old citadel. He couldn't see him properly, but he could see the tufts of gold and silver hair across the aisle from one another near the front of the coach that served as a reminder of his mistake. Thankfully, Freya had motioned for him to sit with her to avoid having to deal with Will or Mordred, and Merlin was honoured that she had decided his company was the least bad of the team.

 **Freya** : Why do you keep staring at the Camelot team?

 **Merlin** : Wh- What do you mean?

 **Freya** : Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. You keep gazing longingly at the blond guy who's walking around like he's King of Linguistics.

Merlin involuntarily gasped. He had always liked to think he was pretty good at hiding his sexuality at this point, it was almost a point of pride.

 **Freya** : Don't worry, I won't tell Will. I haven't come out to him either.

 **Merlin** : You shouldn't. And I'm not staring at Arthur, I just... insulted his dad yesterday and I want to apologise.

 **Freya** : Right. Nothing to do with that sexy sword-dance we saw during the opening ceremony.

 **Merlin** : Okay, maybe it's a tiny bit to do with that. But I'm only human, alright.

 **Freya** : Well I'll keep your secret. But only if you introduce me to his sister. That's a girl who really knows how to wield a weapon.

 **Merlin** : Don't you think she's terrifying?

 **Freya** : Absolutely. It's her most attractive quality.

 **Merlin** : Why are you telling me all this now?

 **Freya** : You looked like you could use a little cheering up. And I'm sure you'd rather not discuss this with either of _them_.

Merlin looked over to see Will and Mordred lounging in their seats, staring vacantly at their phones. It looked like Will was on Tinder and Mordred was playing some app game. He conceded she was right, as she probably was about most things, he continued to realise.

Their first stop was at the ancient citadel of Old Camelot. Merlin had visited the ruins of King Cenred's castle many times, but this was barely comparable. These weren't ruins at all — rather, he felt as though he had been transported 1500 years into the past, the stone was so unworn and well-maintained. The historic lower town had been converted into a reconstructed market, selling Camelot mead and plenty of souvenirs, while the castle itself was a museum to the well-documented history of the legends of the past. Merlin's favourite room was the one about sorcery — he had always loved hearing fairytales about the wizards and witches of the old religion as a child and how the kingdom of Essetir had welcomed them with open arms. (Though he noticed that the museum barely mentioned Camelot's many phases of witchhunts throughout the centuries.)

 **Gwen** : Merlin, would you mind taking a photo for us?

 **Merlin** : My pleasure.

In the courtyard outside the exit to the museum, Gwen gathered all the members of the Camelot teams, along with Uther and Drago to pose stoically next to the Camelot flag. After taking as many photos as his thumb allowed in a few seconds, Merlin passed the phone back to Gwen and approached Arthur with a tap on his arm.

 **Merlin** : Arthur, I just wanted to ap—

 **Arthur** : Actually, Merlin, I was just in the middle of talking to Leon and George. If you want to be rude to my family again, I'd prefer if you'd do it elsewhere where I can't hear you.

 **Merlin** : I was just apologising, okay. No need to be rude.

 **Arthur** : No need to be rude?! You're the one who called my father a _prat_!

 **Merlin** : And I'm sorry! I suppose pratness must be genetic.

He waited for a scathing reply, but Arthur just scoffed as if he had never been called out in his life. Merlin knew he had well and truly blown it.

He started walking away, then realised the Essetir and Caerleon teams on his bus were absolutely nowhere to be seen.

 **Arthur** : The exit's this way, you know.

 **Leon** : Alright, Arthur, you've made your point.

Back on the coach, Gwen and Morgana came to join him and Freya, who gave a subtle nod of approval in Merlin's direction.

 **Morgana** : I really can't apologise enough for Arthur's behaviour. He'll accept your apology, even if I have to force him to.

 **Gwen** : He really is quite nice most of the time. I think you just struck a nerve.

 **Merlin** : You're telling me.

From the row in front of him, Gwaine leaned over his seat to talk to Merlin.

 **Gwaine** : Hey guys, have you heard of the beautiful line thing?

 **Merlin** : Beautiful line?

 **Gwaine** : Okay, so, the line from me to Merlin is beautiful. But the line from Gwen to Morgana isn't.

 **Morgana** : Well, what's that supposed to mean?

 **Gwaine** : The line from Morgana to me isn't beautiful either. Neither is the line from Gwen to Merlin. Okay, but the line from myself to myself _is_ beautiful.

 **Freya** : Oh right, this is one of those games where you have to figure out what makes the line beautiful. I did some of these at "druid camp" a few years back.

 **Gwen** : That's fun! What about the line from Merlin to me?

 **Gwaine** : Not beautiful. Okay, but the line for you to Merlin _is_ beautiful.

 **Gwen** : So it must be something to do with the direction, right?

 **Freya** : I doubt it. Probably a misdirection more than anything else.

The game continued for the rest of the day. Freya was the first one to get it, just as they arrived at the crystal caves. She immediately started torturing everyone else with it alongside Gwaine. Just one person was bad enough, but Merlin really couldn't stand it once Morgana understood what was happening — her smugness could have been seen from outer space.

The entire journey through the caves, which were hauntingly beautiful, was completely ruined by Gwen insisting on asking increasingly specific questions about what made a line beautiful, depending on all sorts of factors that would be way too complicated. She was in the middle of asking about the difference between a vertical and a horizontal line.

 **Morgana** : Okay, Gwen, the line between that crystal on the floor and the cave ceiling is beautiful. Absolutely the best line you've ever seen in the world. But the line between me and Merlin is horrible.

 **Gwaine** : Disgusting.

 **Freya** : Borderline immoral.

 **Gwen** : Okay but what about the line between the ceiling and that crystal over there?

 **Gwaine** : I want to marry that line. Scrap that, I want to have a torrid love affair with that line and never seen it again.

 **Merlin** : Calm down, Gwaine, it's just a game.

 **Morgana** : You're just mad you haven't got it yet.

 **Merlin** : No, I'm mad because it's been half an hour and I'm actually trying to enjoy the caves, thank you very much.

He was also mad because he had just seen Arthur talking to a brown-haired girl from the Nemeth team and apparently his heart had decided that it wouldn't let go of the prat that easily.

 **Freya** : Okay, the line between Merlin and not understanding what makes a line beautiful or not?

 **Morgana** : So beautiful.

On the next coach ride, Gwen finally understood and berated herself. Apparently, they had made it _really_ obvious that time. By the time they reached the Lake of Avalon, even the Nemeth girl — called Mithian — had gotten it. Merlin pretended like he didn't care, but really he was just desperate for them not to realise he was still naive.

 **Mithian** : Let me try. The line between cheese and eggs isn't beautiful, right? Okay, but the line between chickens and vultures is beautiful.

 **Arthur** : I don't get it.

 **Morgana** : Well of course _you_ don't get it. The line between Arthur and basic common sense is most definitely not beautiful.

 **Arthur** : No, I do _get_ it, I just think it's stupid, that's all.

 **Gwen** : Have you really got it? Or are you just embarrassed?

 **Arthur** : I've got it, alright. The line between this thing and this thing is beautiful but the line between Morgana and a donkey's brain isn't. Or something.

 **Morgana** : Not even close.

 **Arthur** : Well, I bet _Merlin_ hasn't got it either. He hasn't said a word!

 **Gwen** : No, Merlin got it ages ago, right?

Merlin hesitated. He knew he couldn't possibly join in without knowing, but he couldn't prove Arthur wrong.

 **Merlin** : I haven't been paying attention really.

 **Gwaine** : Oh my god, Merlin still hasn't got it.

 **Merlin** : No need to be a dick about it, okay?

They all laughed at that, for some reason.

As they walked around near the lake, he tried to ignore the people incessantly talking to him about lines. Instead he kept looking as Arthur and Mithian lagged behind the rest of the group, deep in conversation. He knew he had no reason to feel jealous — he had no chance with Arthur and he was a clotpole anyway — but nonetheless he couldn't help but feel some kind of animosity towards her.

When they got off the coach back at the university, Arthur bounded up to Morgana with a grin on his face, and Mithian approaching slowly behind him.

 **Arthur** : I got it, finally. Before Merlin right?

 **Morgana** (to Mithian): Has he really?

Mithian nodded and Arthur smiled broadly at Merlin and clapped him on the arm.

 **Arthur** : No hard feelings. It's really simple when you know it, mate.

He then ruffled Merlin's hair and walked towards the dorms with such a spring in his step, he might as well have skipped. Merlin felt a gentle fizzing numbness in his toes as his brain registered the interaction.

Soon after their return to campus was a lecture about the languages of Albion over time, during which Merlin saw Lance and Percy once again. Gwaine skipped the lecture, explaining that he "didn't want to go". At the very end, Drago handed out a quiz to fill out as the tryouts for another esoteric IOL tradition — the IOL Jeopardy competition. The questions weren't too hard, Merlin thought, but his mind was still thinking about Arthur touching his arm.

Though now he came to think of it, he didn't see Arthur or Mithian at the lecture, even though the rest of the Camelot and Nemeth teams seemed to be there.

And sure enough, over dinner, he saw Arthur sitting glumly in his chair, constantly glancing over at Mithian.

None of the Camelot team escaped that night. The original four sat in the common room and decided against playing cards. Or rather, Gwaine decided to bring up a certain topic he'd been waiting to talk about for a long time.

 **Gwaine** : So, Lance. What's going on with you and the lovely Gwen?

Lance bowed his head, in the weakest attempt to hide his blush.

 **Lance** : Nothing.

 **Merlin** : Doesn't look like nothing.

 **Lance** : It really is. There's nothing going on.

 **Gwaine** : But what do you _want_ to be going on?

 **Lance** : Nothing! I don't think she's interested.

 **Merlin** : Don't be ridiculous, we all saw the two of you last night. Being all noble and feeding her cards.

 **Percy** : You were suspiciously good at that game, Lance.

 **Lance** : Et tu, Perce? And don't pretend like I haven't seen you flirting with everyone you meet, Gwaine.

 **Gwaine** : That's just my welcoming Caerleonic nature, I can't help myself when I see a fair lass.

 **Percy** : Or lad.

 **Gwaine** : Well I wouldn't want to leave anyone out now, would I?

He winked at Merlin, which didn't really surprise him very much at this point, but he figured he should probably be more excited about. If only stupid Arthur wasn't hogging all his brainwaves.

 **Lance** : What about you Merlin? Got your eye on anyone?

His brain felt like his was awash with millions of thoughts clambering to be heard, but none of which he could actually pay attention to. He saw Gwaine's face looking at his, expectantly.

 **Merlin** : Oh I don't know. A couple of people I guess.

 **Gwaine** : Don't tell me you're into Morgana. There's just something about a woman who looks like she could kill you.

 **Merlin** : I really don't want to talk about it. It's not Morgana, let me make that clear.

 **Gwaine** : Well I hope I'm still in the running at least.

 **Lance** : Guys, he doesn't want to talk about it. We'll just have to ask him when we get him drunk tomorrow night.

Finally, something to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok but the line between merlin and arthur is beautiful tho


	5. thursday (team contest)

Mercifully, the team contest only lasts 3 hours. Team Essetir were sent to one of the many common rooms and supervised by Bayard, the Mercian team leader for the duration of the contest. And while he still had a slight numbness in his cheeks, Merlin was much more at ease dealing with the data when he knew he could talk to the others about it.

Once the contest paper was delivered by Nimueh, one of the younger members of the Jury, they had plenty of time to absorb the one long question that was set and decide how best to use each of their team members to help solve it.

In this case, the question was about healing runes — something Merlin had never thought could be remotely linguistic — but as he read through the rest of the question he could tell there was more to it than met the eye. Particularly since they now had five pages covered in runes to sort through and very little in the way of guidance.

 **Merlin** : Where are we even supposed to start?

 **Will** : No clue. Should we just give up?

 **Freya** : Don't be ridiculous.

 **Merlin** : Freya, do you have any suggestions?

He asked, knowing full well that she would, but that she felt uneasy at assuming control over the situation.

 **Freya** : We should maybe take a page of runes each. Look for any that repeat, or any parts of the runes that repeat. See if we can break them down into constituent parts that we can then analyse separately.

 **Mordred** : I'll also take a closer look at the tasks. Then we might have a better idea of what level of knowledge we're aiming for.

 **Merlin** : That's... actually a good suggestion, Mordred.

Mordred, with his piercing eyes shining from his young face, beamed at the unexpected compliment. After all, Merlin had been a bit harsh with him during training when he'd blurt out whatever nonsense crossed his mind.

Eventually, even Will got stuck into the process. While Merlin didn't feel like he was stuck in a pressure cooker like during the individual contest, he was still keenly aware that they didn't have much time, so he tried to perform whatever job Freya assigned him as efficiently as he could.

Once she had been established as the leader of the team, Freya did a good job of delegating the appropriate jobs to get them closer to the goal. It was very impressive, Merlin thought, and he wished he had given her more credit back when she had been too shy to speak up. He barely recognised that timidity in the room — it was as though a switch had been flipped and she was in "work" mode.

They did well at sorting through the data, but then they hit a roadblock that lasted until the end of the contest. They could make decent guesses at what certain runes must have signified and how they could be produced according to the requirements of the tasks, but they hadn't figured anything out for certain, which was a shame. When Nimueh returned to collect their envelope, they had a mixture of pride and shame — pride that they had tried their best, but shame that it wasn't enough to solve the problem.

Upon leaving the room, they immediately ran into the Camelot Red team, who were much more narrow-minded in their choice of emotion — satisfaction. Even Morgana seemed to be getting into the spirit of it, giving out high-fives and cheering as they walked slowly towards the cafeteria.

 **Uther** : Well, how did it go?

 **Arthur** : We think we got it.

 **Uther** : You _think_?

 **George** : 95% sure we got it, Mr Pendragon.

 **Leon** : Thanks to Morgana's stroke of genius! I'd never have guessed they'd put a whole set of runes upside-down.

 **Morgana** : What would you boys do without me?

 **Uther** : Well I am very proud of you all. You have all done Camelot proud.

Merlin's stomach coiled a little bit, thinking about what he had said about the Pendragons. He had the sudden urge to try to apologise all over again, but he decided he wouldn't want to intrude on their moment. Especially given what happened last time.

Over lunch, he finds out the fates of some of the other teams. From what Gwen said, Camelot Gold probably did about as well as Essetir. Mercia did slightly worse, not getting much beyond the basic identification of some runic elements. Merlin didn't find out anything about how the Caerleon team fared, considering that Gwaine was asleep for almost the entire 3 hours.

Their table was also approached by Drago Kilgharrah, Gwen's team captain, to tell Merlin and Lance that they had qualified for IOL Jeopardy that evening.

Next on the schedule was yet another lecture, but Merlin really couldn't face sitting through it. Instead, he decided he should take the opportunity to do a bit of tourism and get a postcard from his mum. He found Gwaine to be a willing companion, and before long the two of them and Percy were sitting on a bus headed into the city centre.

They were an unlikely duo, Merlin thought. Gwaine was rambunctious and confident, while Percy, for all his physical presence, dealt mainly in subtleties in conversation. And yet, as he watched Gwaine natter on about anything and everything, he could see how Percy's shoulders unhunched and his whole demeanour relaxed, as though he was finally unburdened from the pressure of being a good conversationalist.

He expressed himself in other ways. When they found their way to the central market square, Merlin was forced to take a thousand photos of the two of them in a variety of wacky poses — a forced perspective shot where Percy looked like he was an actual giant stepping on a tiny Gwaine, one where they linked arms and drank from beercans, and one particularly precarious set-up where Percy somehow found himself on Gwaine's shoulders, like an unbalanced spinning top.

It wasn't until he was sat on the bus back to campus, with his bag of postcards for home and another much larger bag of booze from the supermarket, that he realised he hadn't thought about Arthur once since they'd left.

IOL Jeopardy, a quiz competition with a mixture of linguistic, IOL-specific and general knowledge, was one of the many quirks of the week that Lance had warned Merlin about on his first night.

 **Lance** : It's less of a competition than it sounds though. Especially because in this version the audience is one of the players.

 **Merlin** : What does that even mean?

 **Lance** : If none of the actual players know the answer, Drago asks the audience. If anyone gets it, then the audience gets the question. The audience has won almost every year, except when Alice won it in 2014. She's on the Jury now.

The players this time around were Lance of Mercia, Merlin of Essetir, Mithian of Nemeth and George of Camelot, sat behind a table on the stage with a set of quiz buzzers in front of them. From where he was sitting, Merlin could see the audience pretty well. On the front row were Gwaine, Percy, Gwen, Morgana and Freya, each holding up a variety of last-minute signs of encouragement.

As his eyes panned around, he also saw that Arthur and Leon were sat a couple of rows behind, with signs of support for Mithian and George, though they were considerably more muted and less well-executed than whatever Gwen had orchestrated.

The knowledge that this was purely for fun helped Merlin not get too nervous, but it was clear that this same reassurance could not be said for Mithian and George, who both looked almost ready to pass out by the time the questions started. Once things started getting going, George would insist on buzzing in early with an incorrect answer (in a manner that reminded Merlin pretty strongly of his current roommate).

A few rounds in, despite Merlin's early lead (because he knew the history of the kingdoms better than anyone), it became increasingly obvious that the quiz was a two-horse race between Lance and the audience. He got every single question about IOL History and most of the questions about Food and Drink, rarely letting the audience get anything.

By this point, having realised that she wasn't in the running anymore, Mithian looked she was managing to enjoy the whole experience a bit more, without the pressure of needing to win. George, on the other hand, was miserable. His many fruitless attempts to stage a comeback had driven his score through the floor, and he was in dead last place.

The tense balance between the two front-runners continued all the way until the final round, where Lance managed to _tie_ with the audience. This meant that he simply had to get the final question right and he would win.

As he submitted his answer written on a scrap of paper, the audience waited in tense anticipation of what Drago would say.

 **Drago** : The correct answer was "The Fires of Idirsholas". Lancelot of Mercia wrote "The Fires of Ashkanar". The audience wins!

A roar of applause ripped through the audience, but Merlin noticed that Lance looked just as happy as any of them, despite having just lost. Gwen, on the other hand, almost looked angry.

 **Gwen** : That last question was completely unfair! It was Camelot geography, how on earth were you supposed to know it?!

 **Lance** : It's just a bit of fun, Gwen. And letting the audience win means even more people will be happy than if just I did.

 **Gwen** : I suppose you're right.

 **Morgana** : Do you always have to be so bloody noble all the time, Lance?

In the common room, Gwaine and Percy spent the next half an hour showering praise on "their boys" for their performance. It probably helped that they had already covertly started on the beers during Jeopardy and effectively hadn't stopped since, but they were only at a very pleasant stage of tipsy for now.

 **Gwaine** : My boys... I'm so proud of you. So proud. I'd give you both a kiss but... you know... Gwen.

 **Lance** : I've already said, there's nothing going on with Gwen.

 **Percy** : Merlin isn't with Gwen, is he?

 **Merlin** : I have a feeling I'll be needing some of that drink to get through this. Pass some here, Percy.

It suffices to say that Gwaine did not kiss Merlin, though Merlin actually would have quite liked it, he thought. He still wasn't out to any of them at this point, and he didn't feel as though making out with Gwaine was the best way to do such a delicate task.

When Gwen and Morgana came down to the common rooms that night, they were joined by their brothers, Elyan and Arthur, who they had finally managed to persuade to escape with them now that the final contest was over.

 **Arthur** : So this is where you've all been... hanging out, huh?

 **Morgana** : Don't sound so scandalised, dear brother. We just play card games. Well, Gwen and Lance beat us at card games.

 **Arthur** : I hope you don't mind if I invite the Nemeth team as well?

Merlin couldn't exactly object, but seeing Arthur so close had reminded him why he'd fallen for him in the first place. Gwaine really couldn't compare — the lines of his face, the shape of his eyebrows and jaw and lips were like they were designed in some studio somewhere by a lonely gay mad scientist.

But alas, Arthur was clearly into Mithian, as was obvious from the way that the two of them separated off from the rest of the group as soon as she arrived. They sat on a sofa in the corner of the room and Merlin couldn't help but drift his eyes over there more and more as the hours ticked by and his veins hummed with the warmth of the alcohol he was drinking.

Eventually, Mithian left and Arthur briefly circled the large group conversation that Merlin was a part of. After floating aimlessly for a minute or so, he slowly made his way towards the door. Merlin's slightly tipsy brain decided this would be his last ever chance to apologise for what he had said, so he excused himself from his riveting conversation with Percy to go after him into the hall.

He found Arthur with his back against the wall, looking despondent. He didn't start when Merlin appeared, but just stayed standing in place as Merlin leaned on the other side of the corridor facing him. They shared an extended look that Merlin couldn't decipher, Arthur's face as unreadable as the Mona Lisa. They both started speaking at the same time:

 **Arthur** : Well done on Jeopardy— **Merlin** : I just wanted to apo—

They both chuckled and Arthur motioned that Merlin should start.

 **Merlin** : I wanted to apologise again for what I said about your father. And then about you. You don't really seem like that much of a prat.

 **Arthur** : Thanks, Merlin. You were kind of right. He pushes us too hard and I've seen how much Morgana's opened up since she's been sneaking out. And I'm sorry for being rude at the castle.

 **Merlin** : Ha, don't worry about it. The fact you're apologising means you're less of a prat than I thought.

 **Arthur** : And you did well on Jeopardy too.

 **Merlin** : Thanks. I just felt bad for Mithian, she didn't look like she was having a good time. Then again, she'd spent the whole of yesterday talking to you, no wonder she was upset.

Arthur scowled. Another nerve, he supposed.

 **Merlin** : Oh sorry, she's probably your mother, knowing my luck.

Arthur opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. His glare drifted to the floor and he looked like he was trying to think of how to phrase what he was going to say next.

 **Arthur** : I don't know my mother. She left when I was very young.

 **Merlin** : Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea.

 **Arthur** : It's fine, you weren't to know. I was talking to Mithian the other day because we're in similar boats. Her dad's the Nemeth team leader and she got a gold medal last year so she's expected to do amazing this year as well. But she thinks she flunked the paper. And I guess I could relate to that kind of pressure.

 **Merlin** : So you were trying to help her?

 **Arthur** : I guess so. We were trying to help each other. I mean I placed 1st last year, there's no chance I can live up to that standard again.

 **Merlin** : You never know. You've got the hair for it.

 **Arthur** : The hair?

 **Merlin** : It's gold.

Finally, Arthur looked back up at Merlin with the same inscrutable gaze. For a second, he thought he was going to berate him for being a drunken fool, but then suddenly he moved closer and before Merlin was properly aware of it, Arthur had his hands on his neck and had pressed his lips against Merlin's.

It was only a brief kiss but Merlin could feel its effect in the pin pricking of his hands and the fuzzy purring of his cheeks and before long, Merlin was left with his eyes closed and his back pressed firmly against the wall of a now-empty hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: merlin was originally going to kiss arthur but then literally at the last second they swapped bc maybe we deserve some pining arthur after all


	6. friday (closing ceremony)

**Freya** : He kissed you??

They were stood outside the dormitories, away from the rest of the Essetir team after Merlin had mentioned he needed to talk to Freya about something once breakfast had finished.

 **Merlin** : No need to say it so loud, but yes, he kissed me. He seemed pretty drunk, though.

 **Freya** : People don't just kiss each other for no reason, Merlin. What did you say to him?

 **Merlin** : I just apologised, really. I don't know where it came from and he walked off without saying anything afterwards. He probably regretted it and didn't want to have to deal with it.

 **Freya** : Don't be ridiculous. He clearly likes you, drunk or not, otherwise he wouldn't have kissed you in the first place.

 **Merlin** : I don't know, my memory's hazy anyway. I remember I was going to kiss him myself, so maybe I misremembered and he left because I made an inappropriate advance on him, or because he's interested in Mithian or —

Freya put a finger to Merlin's lips to stop him babbling.

 **Freya** : Merlin, you're an intelligent person. Surely you get that Arthur kissing you means he likes you?

 **Merlin** : I don't know, it can't be that simple. He's probably straight, I mean have you seen him?

She sighed before placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He hadn't intentionally stopped looking at her face, but she drew his gaze back to hers.

 **Freya** : He's not straight, Morgana said so.

 **Merlin** : Well if _Morgana_ says it, it must be true.

 **Freya** : She's his sister! I'm sure she knows him better than you do.

Merlin just huffed indignantly. He knew he couldn't find another logical explanation for why Arthur did, in fact, hate him, but he still knew it had to be true. He'd been hurt by enough beautiful straight men in the past to let this one ruin his week any more, so he decided it would be best to just ignore the whole matter and look forward to the solution presentations.

The solution presentations, it turns out, weren't that interesting. The author of each problem on the paper would give a presentation about how the problem could have been solved along with some further information about the speakers of that language and their culture. Gilli and Nimueh, being the young presenters, took the least amount of time, while Ivan and Geoffrey's presentations seemed to go on and on forever. It was slightly excruciating, really.

Merlin was pleased to see that most of what he had written in his solutions had turned out to be right, though he slightly despaired at just how completely off the mark he had been for the first problem on the paper.

The other purpose of the solution presentations was to award a prize for the best solution for each problem. For problem 1, Alice awarded the prize to Gwen, who was still trying her best to be modest in the face of such an impressive accolade. The other best solution prizes went to Iain of Strathclyde, Roger of Kent, Lance and Morgana. He then remembered how both Arthur and Mithian had won such prizes last year, and how neither of them had managed to maintain that status. Merlin was also particularly surprised that Freya didn't win anything — he'd seen first-hand how good she was at these problems and by her own admission she'd completed the paper.

As Nimueh stood up to present the team problem, Merlin noticed out of the corner of his eye that Mithian was trying to make her way out of the auditorium without attracting too much attention. She glanced back at Arthur, but he could see that there was no way Uther would allow him out.

Before he was consciously aware of what his feet had done, Merlin was stood in the foyer of the auditorium close to Mithian, who looked like she was on the verge of tears.

 **Merlin** : Are you okay?

 **Mithian** : Oh, Merlin. Why aren't you in the presentation?

 **Merlin** : Why aren't you? Is something the matter?

 **Mithian** : It's nothing, honestly. It's stupid.

 **Merlin** : You can tell me, I won't judge.

 **Mithian** : I— I just know I haven't done as well as last year, and I know it's silly but I really hoped I would get a best solution prize so I could say that I won _something_.

 **Merlin** : You probably did better than you think. If you got a gold last year, I'm sure you're in the running for a medal this year.

 **Mithian** : I don't know, Merlin. My dad just has such high expectations of me and I don't want to disappoint him. Oh, I shouldn't be burdening you with this. Did you and Arthur make up?

 **Merlin** : Make up?

 **Mithian** : Well, when I last spoke to him, he was still mad about what you said in the castle.

 **Merlin** : I was the one who called him and his father prats, so I apologised. He seemed to take it well.

 **Mithian** : I'm glad to hear it.

And the smile on her face did seem genuine.

 **Mithian** : Oh, and you _cannot_ tell him I told you, but he never actually figured out the whole beautiful line thing. He begged me to tell him so he wouldn't be the last one to figure it out.

 **Merlin** : What actually is it then?

 **Mithian** : You're missing the point. I told him how it worked, under the strict condition that he apologised to you for being a prat.

 **Merlin** : So he didn't mean it then...

 **Mithian** : He did mean it, he just needed a little push, that's all.

 **Merlin** : Well, thank you very much, Mithian. But can you actually tell me how the beautiful line thing works? 'Cause I still have no idea and it's driving me nuts.

 **Mithian** : Okay...

* * *

Before the closing ceremony, Gaius insisted on gathering the Essetir team together for some photos outside the auditorium. While waiting to be let into the auditorium, Merlin walked around the foyer to find his friends and wish them luck. He tried to talk to Gwen and Morgana, but they were stuck in an intense photoshoot being orchestrated by Uther. He avoided meeting Arthur's eye.

The awards were read out in reverse order — starting with the honourable mentions.

 **Ivan** : The first honourable mention goes to... Edmund of Essex!

A whoop arose from the rest of the Essex team, as a lanky boy with glasses half-ran to the front of the auditorium to shake hands with Drago and Geoffrey.

 **Ivan** : The next goes to... William of Essetir!

Merlin spun around, shocked, to face Will and shove the Essetir flag in his hands as he made his way to the front. He'd obviously thought about the fact that the Essetir team would win some awards, but actually being in the moment, he forgot all his doubts about Will and cheered even as Will stood on the stage awkwardly alongside Edmund.

 **Ivan** : Another honourable mention goes to... Percival of Mercia!

He couldn't see Lance from where he was sitting, but he could see Percy's head sticking out of the rest of the crowd as he turned out, clearly in shock. This time his cheer was as loud as he could possibly make it — he was filled with such pride in his friend that he could barely feel his body with the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Further honourable mentions went to contestants from Caerleon, Kent, Nemeth and Cornwall. The final one was awarded to George from the Camelot team, who tried his best to look content without a medal, but hid it rather poorly.

After a further round of applause for all the winners of honourable mentions, they returned to their seats. Will gleefully showed off the certificate he'd received to Merlin and Mordred.

 **Ivan** : And now for the bronze medals. The first bronze medal goes to... Elyan of Camelot!

Merlin watched as the Camelot team erupted into cheers, and Gwen wrapped her arms around her brother in joy as he strolled up to the stage. Geoffrey placed a bronze medal over his neck and he stood to have his photo taken by Uther before the next medalists were announced.

The next bronze medals were awarded to Ida of Northumbria, Elena of Gawant, Sefa of Camelot and Daegal of Kent.

 **Ivan** : Another bronze medal is awarded to... Mordred of Essetir!

The young boy was so excited, he dashed off towards the stage without remembering to take the flag with him. Compared to the others standing on the stage, he was by far the youngest, but Merlin supposed that his eagerness to prove himself had finally paid off. He nervously stood as the medal was placed around his neck, and Gaius zoomed in on his camera to capture the moment.

 **Ivan** : The next goes to... Mithian of Nemeth!

Merlin's heart sank slightly, remembering how she had known she hadn't lived up to her gold medal from last year. But when he saw the joy on her face — presumably she had thought she wouldn't win anything at all — he couldn't help but clap just that tiny bit louder.

The bronze medals were rounded out with yet another contestant from Camelot — this time, a boy called Leon who Merlin had seen Arthur talking to throughout the week.

 **Ivan** : Now we move onto the silver medals.

It was at this point that Merlin realised that his own name hadn't been called yet. He had answered 4 questions, so he had assumed he had done about as well as Mordred. Maybe he'd completely screwed up and hadn't won anything at all. Or maybe his name was still left to be announced.

The first silver medal went to Sophia of Nemeth, then the second to Bruce of Strathclyde.

 **Ivan** : The next silver medal is awarded to... Morgana of Camelot!

To say that Merlin was happy would be an understatement. He whooped with his now-hoarse voice and clapped so hard his hands started to ache as he saw the silver medal being placed carefully over her neck, trying to avoid getting caught in her slightly untamed black hair.

 **Ivan** : And another silver medal goes to... Merlin of Essetir!

Merlin's first reaction was to laugh, then to practically explode. As if in a lucid dream, he felt his legs take him to the stage without him consciously making the effort to move them. When he looked back, he saw the proud faces of his own team, Gwaine, Lance, Percy and most of the Camelot team. He approached Drago, who shook his hand and placed the medal around his neck — it was heavier than he was expecting and it was shaped with the logo of the competition on the front. He was also handed a certificate and a gift bag, before he moved to stand next to Morgana at the back of the stage.

 **Morgana** : Congratulations, Merlin! I'm only slightly annoyed that you managed to beat me.

He reached out for a hug, and over her shoulder he saw Arthur's face staring directly at him with a look of pure pride and joy. Then some of the feeling started to return to his body.

 **Ivan** : And the final silver medal goes to... Lancelot of Mercia!

Merlin wasn't sure if he was supposed to cheer and clap while on stage, but he did so anyway to the best of his ability. Morgana chuckled to his side and joined in with the cheering. Once he arrived to the back of the stage, Merlin pulled him straight into a hug.

 **Merlin** : Look at Gwen's face, then tell me there's nothing going on between you two.

Lance just laughed and stared adoringly back at her. _Young love_ , Merlin thought.

 **Ivan** : I present to you, this year's silver medalists!

Merlin took Morgana and Lance's hands in his and they all stepped to the front of the stage to have their photo taken, before they excitedly returned to their seats. Merlin poked Freya's arm as he sat down next to her.

 **Merlin** : You know this means you got a gold, right?

She nervously shook her head in response and gripped Merlin's hand.

 **Ivan** : And now... the moment we've all been waiting for. Our three gold medalists. The best of the best.

Freya's grip slowly tightened as the atmosphere in the auditorium became much quieter and more intense. It was as if everyone in the room was on edge to see what would happen next.

 **Ivan** : In third place, with 83 points, is...

Merlin felt his hand crushed.

 **Ivan** : Arthur of Camelot!

Suddenly his hand was let go, and Merlin could see Freya relax next to him. Then he watched as Arthur hugged his father and stepped up towards the stage, with the same confidence he'd seen right away. He looked beautiful, almost regal, as he bowed his head to receive his gold medal. And his eyes seemed to scan the audience looking for something. Then, Merlin saw him look him straight in the eye and produce a ridiculous goofy smile he'd never seen before. Fuck, he was in love with Arthur.

 **Freya** : Look at your boyfriend go!

Merlin playfully elbowed her, but he could feel her hand starting to grip harder again.

 **Ivan** : In second place, with 88 points, is...

 **Ivan** : Guinevere of Camelot!

Merlin thought back to what Morgana had said about how Gwen had deserved to be on the better Camelot team, and felt such an overwhelming burst of pride that he could barely stop himself from screaming at the top of his lungs. He even started to tear up when he saw her and Arthur hug at the back of the stage, looking like a royal couple (really, where did Camelot get so many lookers?).

Then Merlin turned his attention to the almost blank-faced Freya sitting beside him. He squeezed her hand gently, but it was clear that she thought she hadn't won anything at all.

 **Ivan** : And finally. In first place, with a whopping 97 points, an all-time record.

A significant section of the audience gasped to hear such a high score, especially considering how hard the paper had been.

 **Ivan** : This year's IOL champion is... Freya of Essetir!

Her mouth dropped open. She looked around as if this was some kind of elaborate joke, or wind-up, but Merlin just pulled her into a hug and shoved the flag in her hands.

 **Merlin** : Go!

She gulped and nodded and made her way to the front of the audience, most of whom were now stood on their feet in applause. While he might have been proud of his other friends for their achievements, nothing could compare to the absolute delight that Merlin felt, having seen Freya come out of her shell and excel. From his experiences with her in training and in the team competition, he had no doubt that she was absolutely worthy of the title, and deserved to have much greater confidence in her own extraordinary knowledge and skills.

After another round of applause and another round of photographs for the gold medalists, Nimueh took to the podium to announce the medals for the team competition. The audience could barely keep quiet, still so excited about how insanely well Freya had done.

 **Nimueh** : ... and so the bronze medal for this year's team contest goes to... Essetir!

No-one on the team could believe it. Merlin looked around at Will, Mordred, Freya and Gaius, who all shared an equally dumbfounded look.

 **Gaius** : Well, don't just sit here! Go get your medals!

They all made their way to the front, slightly disbelieving, with Freya resorting to just laughing about the whole situation it was so ridiculous. They all received a bronze medal and a certificate each, and stood to have their photo taken.

 **Nimueh** : Another round of applause for team Essetir!

As Merlin walked back to his seat, Gwaine vaulted over several rows of chairs to wrap him in a hug.

 **Merlin** : You know this can wait until the ceremony's over, right?

 **Gwaine** : Couldn't wait. Too proud of my Merls.

He then proceeded to give him a wet kiss on the cheek, then a wink, before he returned, disruptively, back to where he was sitting. Merlin wiped his cheek off with his T-shirt as Freya chuckled.

 **Freya** : You didn't mention _him._

 **Merlin** : Didn't seem important.

 **Freya** : Not your type?

 **Merlin** : Something like that.

When they returned, they found Gaius grinning from ear to ear with his phone out taking photos of the team. Now they were sitting back down, Merlin realised just how ridiculously well their team had done this year: one honourable mention, one bronze, one silver and one gold, plus a whole set of 4 bronze medals for the team contest. Essetir's best year before had been when Alice had gotten that silver medal 6 years ago, so this blew their record way out of the water.

The silver team medal went to the team from Strathclyde, who looked somewhat less surprised by their achievement — presumably because they had an inkling they had done better than most already.

 **Nimueh** : And the gold medal for the team contest goes to... Camelot Red team!

Arthur, Morgana, Leon and George raced out onto the stage, looking as pleased as punch, and received their four gold medals, on top of the gold, silver and bronze medal they already had. George's sour face from earlier had completely gone, replaced with simple joy as the medal was placed over his head.

As Arthur bounded back to his seat, the clink of the two gold medals around his neck could be heard from the other side of the auditorium.

* * *

The ceremony closed off with a speech, but everyone was so excited about all the medals and the awards that they didn't care. The scene in the foyer as people were let out was one of jubilant celebration. Gwen hugged Lance so closely even Uther could tell something was definitely happening there. Gwaine gave Merlin another kiss and wrapped his arms fiercely around him, while Morgana held hands with Freya and squealed her excitement.

Merlin saw Arthur hugging Uther, whose cheeks were wet with tears of joy. For all his faults as a team leader, he was clearly immensely proud of his son — who wouldn't be?

Percy insisted on giving Gwen a piggy-back ride to the IOL party, which took place in two adjoining banqueting halls, adorned with candles and a large buffet feast. Merlin had never seen something so extravagant in his life — clearly neither had Gwaine, who immediately covered a plate in as much of every food item as he could get to balance there.

Merlin contemplated how he had grown so close to these people so quickly. He was so incredibly proud of all of them for what they'd managed to achieve — almost all of them had ended up with an award of some kind, which clearly meant he must have excellent taste.

 **Lance** : Okay, now this is the best IOL food I've ever eaten. Why couldn't we get this every night?

 **Percy** : This might be the best food I've ever eaten, full stop.

 **Gwen** : Have you guys tried the herb-crusted capon? It's absolutely to die for.

After the feast, the party spilled into the courtyards outside, where a projector and some microphones had been set up for karaoke. Lance had said that karaoke was a relatively recent addition to the IOL schedule, but it usually proved to be a lot of fun.

 **Merlin** : I'm not sure I'd quite classify that as "fun". That song nearly put me to sleep.

 **Morgana** : Helen's a great singer, Merlin. Though, she probably didn't _have to_ pick an opera song for karaoke.

 **Gwaine** : I've put in a request to liven the mood up, don't you worry.

 **Morgana** : I dread to think.

A few minutes later, the introduction to _Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!_ began to play through the radio, and Gwaine burst out of the gathered audience to grab a microphone. He pulled Percy with him, who started shy but eventually got into the spirit of the song. They were helped by the rest of the audience, who all sang along with them.

_Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight / Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?_

As the chorus hit for the first time, Merlin spotted Arthur on the opposite side of the crowd singing his heart out. As he spotted Merlin, he gave a questioning look. Merlin didn't know how to respond so he just smiled back and kept singing.

_Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight / Take me through the darkness to the break of the day_

Arthur disappeared from sight. As much as Merlin had told himself he was going to ignore him and enjoy his final evening in Camelot, he couldn't help but worry that he'd missed his opportunity to see if there was anything between the two of them when they weren't both drunk out of their minds. And the afternoon's medal ceremony had given him a newfound confidence in himself and his convictions. _Fuck it_ , he thought. _It's now or never_.

_Find the end of the rainbow with a fortune to win / It's so different from the world I'm living in_

Half a minute later, Merlin felt a poke in his side. He turned to see Arthur standing next to him with a grin on his face. He signalled with his eyes that he wanted to get out of the karaoke crowd, and Merlin was only too happy to oblige.

It was only when they had moved into the next courtyard by the dorms that he realised he was still singing along to the song, alone. He stopped abruptly and laughed awkwardly.

 **Merlin** : So...

 **Arthur** : So...

 **Merlin** : I was right.

 **Arthur** : What do you mean?

 **Merlin** : About the hair. Two gold medals, that's absurd, really.

Feeling brave, Merlin decided to move his hand up to the back of Arthur's neck to touch the hair there. He was fully prepared to retract his arm at the slightest sign of discomfort, but it never came.

 **Arthur** : Well you got two, too. On your first try, as well. I'd argue that's far more impressive.

 **Merlin** : You really have no reason to be modest right now. You know I know you're an overachiever.

 **Arthur** : Am I now? I thought I was a prat.

 **Merlin** : You're still a prat, just an overachieving one.

Arthur gasped in mock-offence and held a hand to his chest.

 **Arthur** : What have I done to you this time?

Merlin moved his arm back and thought carefully about just how brazen he felt like being. _Fuck it, it's now or never_.

 **Merlin** : You stopped kissing me last night.

 **Arthur** : Oh, I think I can do something about that.

And so, with the sound of _The Winner Takes It All_ playing softly in the background, Arthur and Merlin kissed for the second time, stopping only to laugh into each other's shoulders when their four medals insisted on clinking in the space between their chests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o/s: percy gets lance to sing a duet with gwen, but the two of them insist on getting the whole gang to join in
> 
> just writing the IOL closing ceremony sent my heart racing - I don't think words can even begin to capture the emotions involved, but hopefully this gives some sort of vague impression of what it's like


	7. saturday (departure)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an epilogue of sorts

Merlin said farewell to Mithian first. The Nemeth team left just after breakfast, so they had brought their bags with them into the cafeteria. As they saw them starting to head out of the door, Arthur was the one to get up from the table they were all sat at to say goodbye and Merlin decided he would join him.

Mithian looked at Arthur wistfully, then drew him into a hug.

 **Mithian** : Thank you for your support. I couldn't have made it through the week without it.

 **Arthur** : The pleasure's all mine.

 **Merlin** : And thank _you_ for persuading this prat to apologise. If I'm ever in Nemeth I'll send you a text and we can hang out.

 **Mithian** : I'd like that very much. Thanks, Merlin. Arthur.

The second farewell was an hour or so later, as the Caerleon team packed onto a minibus. Gareth and Eoghan were waiting patiently inside, while Annis and Morgause stood outside for Gwaine. He appeared from inside the dorms accompanied by Percy, with an unnecessarily large bag of snacks for the journey over his shoulder.

When he reached Merlin in his procession of goodbyes, he gave him a hug so tight Merlin thought his ribs might just crack.

 **Gwaine** : If you ever get sick of ol' blondie here, you just give me a call, alright?

 **Merlin** : I can guarantee you're top of the waiting list.

 **Gwaine** : Good man.

His most emotional farewell was reserved for Percy, who picked Gwaine up off the ground and spun him around in the air.

 **Percy** : I'll miss you, little man.

 **Gwaine** : And I you. I might just have to make a little trip across to Mercia, big boy.

 **Percy** : I'm gonna hold you to that.

The train to Mercia left before the one to Essetir. Gwen, Morgana and Arthur had come down the station to see the last of their little group off since they all lived in New Camelot anyway. Percy had been closest with Gwaine, so his goodbyes to the rest of the group were fairly unextraordinary, while Lance and Gwen were wrapped in a very deep — and very long — hug.

 **Gwen** : I'll see you soon, Lance.

 **Lance** : I will count the days until then.

He then took her hand and kissed it, like he had done when they first met.

 **Morgana** (to Merlin): You see what you've done?

And so, with some final hugs for good measure, Lance and Percy left to catch their train home.

When the platform for the train to Engerd was announced, everyone stood up from the little café they had been waiting at and headed for the main concourse. Merlin couldn't believe this was the end of the journey — it had only been a week, but he felt as though he had made friends for life. But dreams can never last forever. He would have to return to the terrible drudgery of the real world and experience the week as just a brief memory.

He didn't know where to begin with his goodbyes. Gwen came up to him first, still a bit teary-eyed from Lance's departure, and wished him the best. Morgana and Freya hugged, whispering in each other's ears jokes meant only for each other.

 **Morgana** : Now, Merlin. I'm sure I'll be seeing plenty more of you in the near future. Congratulations again on beating me.

 **Merlin** : You were a worthy opponent and a half-decent Kent partner.

They shook hands formally with stern expressions, before cracking up and drawing into a hug. She whispered in Merlin's ear something that sounded an awful lot like a threat if he mistreats her brother and he couldn't help but believe her.

Finally, Merlin turned to Arthur. The boy with the golden hair from across the room who somehow, miraculously, liked him back. They had already made plans to meet up again in New Camelot in two weeks, but his heart already ached to spend that long apart.

 **Merlin** : You know, I nearly applied to the University of Camelot actually. We could have hung out together.

 **Arthur** : I'm... not going to the University of Camelot.

 **Merlin** : You aren't? Where are you going?

 **Arthur** : I applied for law, so I'm going to Engerd. I was never going to go to university in my hometown.

 **Merlin** : Well, then. I suppose I'll be seeing you at uni too.

 **Arthur** : I suppose so.

They didn't kiss, not in public and certainly not in front of Morgana and Will, but as they hugged, Merlin could feel Arthur's hand stroking his back. He couldn't wait to see him again.

As a metallic voice announced Ealdor as the next station, Merlin got up and gathered his bags. The journey back had been entirely different to the journey there — where there had been silence before, there was now lively discussion of all the events of the past week. Will had, in fact, made very good friends with the girls of Gawant and they hadn't been repulsed by his entire deal, much to just about everyone's surprise. Mordred had kept to himself mostly, but he still had two more years left to participate. Freya didn't reveal much about her time spent with Morgana, but she spoke far more freely than she had before.

 **Merlin** : Freya, I am so so proud of you. You have no idea.

 **Freya** : We'll have to get coffee soon, right? I'm only a few towns over.

 **Merlin** : Of course! And you have to promise to tell me about Morgana, okay? I've had to talk about Arthur.

 **Freya** : If you insist! Now get off this train before the doors close on you.

She gave him the briefest of hugs before affectionately pushing him out onto the platform. He watched and waved as the three of them (and Gaius) drifted away towards Engerd.

Merlin arrived home to the smell of his favourite lunch. His mum had made a CONGRATULATIONS banner and left some of his favourite chocolates in a pile by the door. She swept him into a hug, before asking him all about what happened and who he met and what they did, which he eagerly explained in great detail as he ate the best meal he had eaten in a week. Just as he was telling her about the karaoke party, his phone buzzed several times in his pocket.

_Morgana Pendragon has tagged you in 20 photos._

_From literally the best linguist in all of albion: **"might have accidentally told will about you + arthur, mega-sorry"**_

_From overachieving prat: **"Hope you got home safe x"**_

_From Will: **"so THAT'S why you never told me about any girls"**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all who made it this far! it was so nice to relive the experience of an IOL in lieu of getting to go to one this year and I hope at least some of you also enjoyed it
> 
> stay safe and stay curious :)


End file.
